Enraptured
by Eyeliner-Vampire
Summary: Fang is another one of the Schools failed experiments. What good is a bird kid if he can't even fly? Scheduled for execution, his handler's agree on one final test. A test of survival. Fang will soon learn there are things worse than death in the city at the bottom of the sea. Welcome to Rapture. FAX
1. The Test

Yes, this fic DOES take place in Rapture. If you don't know what that is, no worries. The story will probably be better if you don't, so please don't be turned off by the new and unusual. Give it a try, please?

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Enraptured

Chapter one

The ship rocked unsteadily under his feet. The urge to puke was getting worse and worse every time he tilted to one side too much. Sweat stuck his short hair to the back of his neck.

The floor creaks. He turned towards the sound, wishing he could see something, anything other than the inside of his eyelids. Somewhere on the other side of the room a door opens and a big burly man enters.

"Get up,"

Fang smiles, cocking his head towards the voice. "I would if I could, Chief, but I'm kinda tied up-" He was swiftly jerked from the chair, the force of it breaking the ropes around his middle. Though he stumbled to the ground still, thanks to the ones around his ankles. "Thanks, man." He grunted sarcastically. He'd been struggling against those binds for hours without making a difference.

Before he could get to it, the blindfold was violently removed too. Fang blinks, rubbing his eyes in surprise, thankful for the dimly lit room. Outside the small room a seagull squawks, casting its shadow across the lone window.

He scrambled to his feet, pulling free of the last of the restraints. The other man stood by the door, arms crossed. Fang recognized him, having been loaded onto the boat by him what seemed like forever ago. The thought of escape had at one time crossed his mind but the presence of the body guard dismissed it. He towered over the boy, muscles bulging out through his shirt. He knew he couldn't get more than a few steps before he'd be taken down by him. And probably squashed in the process.

Not to mention they were in the middle of the ocean. The only way out was up. His wings folded tightly against his back twitched with the thought of being used. But even if he could use them, he wouldn't get far.

That was the reason why he was here in the first place. When he was born the scientists at the School injected him and the others with bird DNA to mix with their human DNA. The result of that was longer, lighter, and thinner bodies. Enhanced raptor hearing that could pick out the sound of a pin dropping in the middle of a symphony. Vision that could see the flickering of a candle ten miles away. And the _wings_.

There were six bird kids in all, though Fang had only seen them once or twice before. He knew of their other talents. Telepathy, mimicry, technomancy, super speed. He himself didn't have any special power other than the sarcasm that he seemed to use without thinking. He couldn't even fly.

The wings on his back were useless, much more of a symbol of the scientists failure than anything else. And that's why he'd been slated for termination.

Though he didn't know why they had to bring him to the middle of the Atlantic just to kill him.

"C'mon, we don't have all day." The body guard nudged Fang out the slim door way and onto the deck. Sunlight blinded him for only a second until his unique eyes adjusted and he stood face to face with-

"Jeb Batchelder, so nice to see you again. Will you be reading the Eulogy?" His sarcasm didn't even faze tall blond man wearing a white lab coat.

The man beside Jeb, however, muttered in response. "As if you'd get one." But a single glance from the older scientist shut him up.

Jeb looked at Fang with an almost sad expression. "I'm sorry that we have to meet like this, Fang. But there's one more test before we can retire you."

"So where's the needles?" Fang hissed the word. He hated needles. "Where's the treadmill? The monitoring systems, the Erasers?"

The scientist just shook his head. "There will be none of that. Not this time." He paused and gestured to the open water. Or what Fang has assumed to be open water.

Behind Jeb towered a gigantic lighthouse with stairs on either side that disappeared under the surface. He craned his neck to get a better look at the figure on top, holding the light. He wondered for a moment what the figure was but then thought the better question was: who puts a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean?

"What is it then?" Fang demanded, tearing his eyes from the massive building. "Seeing if I can swim with my hands tied?"

Jeb shakes his head again and turns his attention to the body guard who'd taken ahold of Fang. "Escort him inside."

Fang started to turn but the body guard forced him forward, toward the edge. Again Fang had failed to notice something. The boat had stopped, docked up against the stair-case of the lighthouse. The small island was bigger up close, and obviously man-made. The guard gave him another push and Fang fell, stumbling onto the dark stone steps.

He hit his knee hard on the way down, the raggy jeans they'd given him to wear split exposing his reddened skin. The guard jumped down next, pulling Fang back to his feet. It was a little hard to keep balanced when his wrists were still tied behind his back.

Jeb followed behind them, carefully up the flight until they stopped in front of an open door. There was a tall human figure with a city behind it. Fang only had a moment to look at it before he was thrown to his knees just inside.

He couldn't see anything beyond the archway; the rest of the room was pitch black. And eerily quiet. He scurried to his feet and fumbled back to the door but the guard blocked his way.

"This is your final test, Fang." Jeb stood off to the side, just visible in the doorway.

Fang didn't know what he was talking about and considering the expression on Jeb's face, he didn't think he was going to tell him. But he had to try. "What? What's the test?"

The scientist paused for a long moment, watching the young boy struggle in his restraints. Then he says, "To survive, Fang."

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At first I considered this fic to be a crossover with BioShock, but then I realized that Max Ride fans would miss it completely if it were listed under crossover. So I changed it to just Max Ride. Hope no one minds.

Please tell me what you think and thank you for reading. There is definitely more to come :)

EL-V


	2. Welcome To Rapture

Enraptured

Chapter two

"What does that mean- _hey_!" He'd only taken a step before the door screeches shut and he's consumed by darkness. Fang lunges forward, finding the cold metal and ramming it with his shoulder. "What are you doing? _You can't leave me here_!"

But they can. And they did.

He beats the door until his knees buckle and his shoulder throbs. Then, sighing in defeat, he rests his forehead on the cold ground.

_Click_!

Fang flinches at the sound expecting Erasers to appear from the black and rip him to shreds. But it's only the sound of the spotlight snapping on. He lifts his head, swallowing a gasp.

A immense bronze statue of a man glares down at him. Fang nearly jumps out of his skin. The busts expression was stern, staring over a long, dirty red banner that stretches across the space.

**No gods or kings.**  
**Only men.**

The banner comforts Fang a little, at least he isn't alone here, he thinks. Until he looks again at the banner and sees the smeared blood.

A bad feeling is starting to boil in the pit of his stomach. He forces himself to his feet once again, wandering cautiously toward the statue. A second later another light clicks on.

This one illuminates the rest of the circular room. He can see two hallways on the other side lit with flickering fluorescent lights. He isn't entirely sure if he should go any further when he spots a short pedestal with a quote chiseled into it.

'IN WHAT COUNTRY IS THERE A PLACE FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME?  
-Andrew Ryan'

"I feel you there," Fang mutters, cringing from the plaque when he realizes it too is covered in blood. Just the corner where it almost looks like someone had their head bashed in.

He looks around, arms starting to ache in their awkward position behind his back. Being caught like this from the same thing that had made those blood stains would be bad. If he'd just had a knife or something sharp-

Fang looks back at the bloodied corner. Perhaps if it were sharp enough... Bile rose in his throat but he didn't really have a choice. Begrudgingly, he turns around and pushes the rope against the sharp corner. A minute of sawing and he can already feel the restraint starting to give away. His knuckles hit the stone and he can feel the sticky blood smear over them.

The rope finally breaks free. Fang falls to his knees in relief, gagging on whatever it was that he'd had for breakfast. He heaves until his arms shake under his weight.

"What is this place?" He croaks, pushing himself to shaky feet. Rubbing the rings around his wrists he looks around the room again and stops at the flickering hallways. He flicks a wandering glance back at the door he'd been thrown through only minutes ago, and heads the opposite way.

The hall turns out to be just an archway to the stairs that lead him down. Taking a deep breath he descends past the two platforms and into another circular room. There is also something in the center of this room but it's much smaller and dome-like.

After making sure the rest of the room is indeed empty of life, Fang scampers down the last staircase. He walks around the room examining the weird dome.

Halfway around he finds the door, swung wide open as if it were welcoming him. The inside is lined with a couch looking bench, circled around a stand in the middle with a rusted gold lever.

Without hesitation, Fang pulls it.

The door swings shut with a loud bang.

Oh, damn. Not again. He races to it, pushing against it with all his might. The heavy glass doesn't even budge.

The floor rocks back and forth, bobbing. Fang takes a step back, realizing what he'd done only after the bubbling water has risen halfway up the door.

He's in a submarine. Or at least an older version of one, like one of the bathyspheres he'd read about at the School. He watches the ocean get darker and darker, reading the signs as he sank.

10 FATHOMS...

A statue races past him. The same figure that he'd seen on the door.

18 FATHOMS...

A screen falls over the viewing window. Fang jumps back in surprise, the lever jamming into his back. Clicking noises fill the small space as he looks for the source: a large rickety old projector hanging from the ceiling. When he straightens to take a closer look at the system, a bright light blinds him. He moves out of the way, rubbing his eyes and gazes back at the yellowing screen.

It's blank for another moment before a scratched picture of a man appears. He's just as old looking as the picture, sitting behind his desk, hat shading his face. The writing at the bottom of the screen read ANDREW RYAN.

"_I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question." _A disembodied voice echoes in the bathysphere, obviously belonging to the man in the picture.

"_Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?_  
_'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.'_  
_'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.'_  
_'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.'_"

Fang crossed his arms, huffing, "You've got serious problems, Ryan."

_"I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different._  
_I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture._"

It's a city. Large skyscrapers stuck up from the deep valley, smaller buildings standing stout on either side of them. Lights from the neon signs glowed in Fang's face, some blinking with the words FLEET HALL, FINLEY'S, and PLASMIDS.

An octopus swims by the window, momentarily blocking the view. Fang gasps and takes a step back but gazes curiously out the glass. He sees round glass tunnels, he thinks, that ran from building to building. The bathysphere continues on its predetermined path, ducking under one of these glass passage ways.

Fang tries to take in everything but the sub takes a weird U-turn away from the builds. It moves towards four metal rings that blink and glow the closer he gets. He reads them in blocky phrases.

ALL GOOD THINGS

OF THIS EARTH

FLOW

INTO THE CITY

Then the bathysphere comes to a stop in a concrete bulb. A poster is blurred by the water moving between them but Fang strains to read it.

"Fire at your fingertips," It says, "Incinerate!" In red and orange letters. At the bottom it reads Plasmids by Ryan Industries.

The hell, Fang curses. He rereads it over again but then the bathysphere jolts and begins to ascend.

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I apologize if it seems a bit rushed but I really just want to get to the action. Since this chapter is just exposition I'll be uploading chapter 3 tomorrow.

Please leave your comments or concerns in a review :)

Thanks,

EL-V


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